Page 138 of Failure to Match

He didn’t do either of those things, but he did move.

His arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer. And when I placed a soft kiss against the shell of his ear, he buried his face into the crook of my neck and let out a pleased rumbling sound.

The more I showered him with gentle affection, the more he seemed to melt in my arms. It was addicting. I played with his hair, ran my fingers through it and told him just how soft it was. I kissed his head, his cheek, and whispered a never-ending string of compliments into his ear. It didn’t matter what the compliment was, how much it bruised my ego, or compromised my defenses. If it came to me, I said it.

By the end of the hour, he knew exactly how handsome and witty I thought he was, how unbelievably good it felt when he touched me, how genuinely charmed I was by him. I also told him I thought he was brave. That I hadn’t appreciated how hard it must be to carry a whole company on his shoulderswhile simultaneously dealing with all the bullshit he was being dragged through.

He didn’t seem to mind, either. Just hugged me back and nuzzled my neck while I repeated it all over and over again, until I was sure every single word was permanently carved into his long-term memory.

“Jackson, we really should go over the candidates now.”

He’d been communicating mostly via rumbles and growls since I started pampering him an hour ago, and this one was, by far, the most displeased sound he’d made.

“Come on. I gotta get your pick to Alice so she can set up the date.”

He tightened his embrace.

I sighed. “I skimmed over one of the profiles this morning. She’s really gorgeous, really smart and accomplished, and doesn’t do the whole love thing. I don’t know about the others yet, but I think you’ll like her.”

That one earned me a full glare. He actually pulled back to glower down at me, all grumpy-like. “We don’t need to go over the candidates. You’re signing the contract.”

“That’s absolutely not going to happen.”

“Sixty million for the year.”

“That’s an insane amount of money. You should’ve started a lot lower.”

“Seventy.”

“I like you too much, Jackson. Our marriage would be a disaster. I’d become so invested and emotional. You’d be so annoyed with me.”

His jaw was doing that ticking thing again. He hated everything I was saying. “One hundred million dollars. You’ll have your own driver and staff, access to my jet, yacht, properties, and whatever else you could possibly want. I’ll teach you how to play the piano.”

That last item was the most enticing offer he’d made yet. Still, “No, thanks.”

More ticking. “You’re being incredibly irrational.”

“I’m aware.”

“No one in their right fucking mind would turn down nine figures for one year of playing mild pretend.”

“I don’t want your money.”

His eyes narrowed. “And I already told you, the more you tell me you don’t want it, the more I want to spend it on you. It’s very irritating.”

“You’re being incredibly irrational,”I parroted.

He really wasn’t in the mood. Didn’t even pretend like he found me amusing.

“Pick whoever the fuck you want for my dates. It won’t matter since you’ll be the one signing the marriage certificate.”

I cupped his face again. “Jackson, listen to me, Iwill notenter into a contractual marriage with you. We can continue being friends after the Immersive is over, but that’s it.”

“I don’t accept.”

“Then you’re going to be wasting your own time.”

Not that he was listening. His blue eyes sharpened as they studied me, looking for a weakness. Then he handfed me the sushi he’d made (which was incredibly delicious, by the way), aggressively pampered me with kisses and thinly veiled threats, and once he was satisfied with how much I’d eaten and how many times I’d turned his marriage proposal down, he locked himself up in his office.

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